War of the Word
by Alexander Stardust
Summary: Twenty years after the fall of Galbatorix, Eragon has established the Dragon Riders in New Vroengard. But when a Rider on a black dragon arrives, trouble begins to brew. Dissent is sewn in the ranks, and the Order schisms, leaving Eragon on the losing side of a war against the Order he built. Only Victoria, a young elf, and her golden dragon Sol can stop the coming storm.


**Author's Note: So, like I said in my profile, I created this account specifically to write this story. I will be uploading weekly, and will be following the storyline laid out by my friend Drizzt's BF. He knew the whole story when he started writing, so none of this is actually my idea *guilty look.***

**Chapter One:**

**Everything I Ever Wanted**

Waiting was the bane of Victoria's existence. She had been waiting her whole life, short as it may have been, for this moment. But now, these last few hours felt as long as the ten previous years. She took a deep breath. It would be soon now; she just needed to occupy her mind to pass the time until the Elders came. Of course, that was far easier said than done. How could she take her mind off this? This, the biggest moment in her life! Today, she would find out what she would do for the rest of her incredibly long life.

Today, she would be taken before the dragon eggs.

All elves were taken before the eggs when they turned ten, and if a dragon hatched for them, they were sent to New Vroengard for training. Ever since she was old enough to be impatient, she had been impatiently waiting for this day. Now it was upon and she was _still waiting. _She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to do anything other than sit and wait. Yet here she was, sitting and waiting.

She tapped her foot, the shifted. Then she began drumming her fingers. After that, she tapped her foot and drummed her fingers, and before long, she was tapping out a rhythm. She looked out the window at the sun. She tried to avoid looking as long as she could, because she knew looking at the sun only made it feel like it was moving slower, but she couldn't help herself.

The Elders would come at sundown. They always did. The child would be taken before the eggs as the last strip of sun descended past the horizon, and the child would remain for twenty-four hours. When, on the next day, the sun descended again, the Elders would come again, and take the child away. If a dragon hatched for the child, they would be sent to the East. If not, they would carry on their lives in the realm of the elves.

Victoria shivered. The idea of carrying on her life in Ellesmera forever was terrifying to her. How could she live in a quiet city forever when there was so much adventure beyond its bounds? Sure, she could ride out into the world, a traveler with blade to swing and tale to tell. She could take up the bard's life.

But what would that life bring her? Adventure, yes. But the Dragon Riders commanded respect from all corners of Alagaesia. They were the greatest warriors in the realm, riding their winged mounts and wielding their named blades. She could have a blade of beautiful red, or blue, or violet, whatever was the color of her dragon. She could picture the blade clearly in her mind, a lovely curving piece, with a sculpted dragon for the hilt.

It was then, during her daydreams, that she heard the quiet _tap tap tap _on her door. She sprung to her feet before she'd even processed the movement, and raced to the entrance. She swung the portal wide and saw what she had been waiting all day to see: the faces of the three Elders, aged and beautiful. Two men and a woman stood before her, with silver hair and fine features. Standing before them, she could not help but feel self-conscious of her own appearance.

In contrast to their shining silver hair, Victoria's was a plain blonde, and her eyes were brown, rather than the shining hues of other elves. When she mastered the magic of it, of course, she could change her appearance as she desired, but it would be several years before she learned even the basics of it. It came innately to elves; usually they would begin to understand it around the time of puberty.

She knew that in any human city, she would be considered inhumanly beautiful because, well, she wasn't human. But this was the heart city of the elves, where the most gorgeous of beings resided. She was but one beauty among hundreds.

The Elders smiled at her, sensing her emotions, as they were known to do. Then, they turned without a word and led her toward the Palace of the Queen. Excitement and trepidation warred in her mind and stomach, for she knew that the next twenty-four hours would decide her fate: Dragon Rider, or nobody. She knew that Riders were few and far between, especially in the twenty years since Eragon Shadeslayer had expanded the Rider Bond to include Dwarves and Urgals. Being chosen by a dragon had always been a marvelous thing, but now elven Riders were sparser than ever. But this didn't stop her from hoping against hope that she would be one of the few.

They entered the palace with but a strip of light left above the horizon. The Elders led her through the twisting corridors of the palace to the place where her destiny would be decided. Anyone who was just passing through would never had thought twice about the door the Elders stopped in front of. It was plain, by elven standards, nothing grandiose about it. Even the protective enchantments were so masterfully worked as to leave almost no detectable trace. It was when the Elders opened the door that the awe set in.

Beyond the doorway were hundreds of dragon eggs, each sitting on pedestal, of every color imaginable: blue, red, purple, green, black, white, and dozens of others. Some were even multi-colored; she could see one that was mottled black and red, and another split perfectly down the middle with one white half and one black half. She was so awestruck, she didn't even notice as the Elders shut the door behind her and left.

And suddenly she was alone. The room was enormous. Larger than she could have fathomed. It seemed to stretch on infinitely before it hit the back wall. She began to walk back, passing a dozen eggs with each row. She spotted one of a beautiful violet, and walked over to it. It was the most beautiful color she'd ever seen, lighter and bluer than most, but still identifiably purple. She placed her hand against it, and ran her fingers across the smooth surface.

She looked around, scanning the eggs for any activity, but there was none. She forced down the feelings of trepidation. Only one egg had ever hatched in the first hour. Most did not hatch until the sixth or seventh. Hatching rates continued up until the twelfth, which had the highest number of hatchings. After twelve hours, it began to taper off again, decreasing in likelihood up until the twenty-fourth hour. No eggs had ever hatched in the twenty-fourth hour.

She knew it would be a long wait, so she settled in. They had provided her bread and cheese and greens, and jug of water with a silver cup, all of which were sitting on a small table with a single chair beside it. She was too nervous to eat, so she went to the chair and sat. A thought about how she had waited all day to simply do more waiting flitted across her mind, but she shoved it away. She again began her various tappings, until she was playing her legs, the chair, the table, and the floor like the finest of elven drums.

She continued to fidget away the time for an hour or more. As she did, she could feel her eyelids growing heavier. Even through the excitement and anxiety, she needed to sleep. She tried to force herself to stay awake, but her eyes kept closing of their own accord, and eventually she just stopped trying to open them again.

She awoke still in the chair. Her eyes flicked around, but there was no way of knowing what time it was. The chamber was lit by magical fire, and was not open to daylight. She figured it must be morning, for as far as she could see, no egg had shifted, and there was nothing else in the room to rouse her.

Suddenly the nervousness set in again. If she had slept through the night, it meant that twelve hours had passed, and no egg had yet hatched. She was on the downward side of the slope. With every passing minute, it became less and less likely that an egg would hatch, a fact that she was acutely aware of.

Trying to subdue the nervousness, she stood, and grabbed a hunk of bread from the table. She wandered the aisles, looking at the different eggs, trying to see if any of them had shifted since she last looked at them. But none had. She again came to the violet egg, which was as still as all the others. Nervous and anxious, her tapping began again, this time just against her legs or the edges of the pedestals.

It was three hours before nervousness fled and despair set in. She sat back in the chair, her head lowered. She resolved not to shed tears. She would not appear weak. She would leave with her head held high, and she would take up the adventurer's life. She didn't need a dragon; she could do just fine on her own. She'd make a name for herself as a traveling bard, and she would command the attentions of others everywhere she went.

But even as these thoughts played through her head, she couldn't shake the disappointment of not being chosen. What made her unworthy? Why did the others who had been chosen deserve this but not her? In a flash, her disappointment turned to anger, and she stood and violently hurled a burst of fire at the back wall. It jetted back, illuminating eggs as it went. And as it soared, one shining egg caught her eye. A golden egg near the very back of the room which, as the fire passed by, she could have sworn she'd seen move. She dashed toward it, a new hope rising in her. But when she neared it, it was not moving. It was as still as all the others.

Despair filling her once again, she sunk down against the egg's pedestal. She wasn't even aware of the hours that had passed when the Elders came to retrieve her. They entered the room wordlessly, and she began to stand. But as she did, she knocked into the golden egg, and it fell from its pedestal. Her elven reflexes kicking in, she whipped around and reached for it, but froze when she saw the egg.

Or what was left of it. The egg was in a dozen pieces, and in the middle, was a tiny golden dragon. The tiny creature looked up at her, tilting its head curiously. Victoria was so awestruck, she didn't even notice that the Elders had gathered around her until one of them spoke.

"The dragon is yours, child," said the woman. "It has hatched for you." Her awe turned to joy. She dropped to her knees in front of the dragon, and it approached her carefully. She reached out gently, carefully, and just made contact with the dragon's nose. She immediately recoiled as a painful burst of energy shot through her. She looked again and there it was on her left palm: the gedwëy ignasia. The mark of a Dragon Rider. She reached forward again, and the golden dragon jumped and landed on her arm, crawling up to her shoulder.

She turned to face the Elders, who were all smiling. "It's good that an egg hatched. Elven Riders are sparse these days," he said quietly. "Are you happy, child?"

"It's everything I ever wanted."


End file.
